IAA L03 - Aix-Marseille Université

IAA L03
(LANSAD)
VERSION et commentaire de traduction
SEPTEMBRE­JANVIER 2007/2008
Equipe pédagogique :
Cécile Bianchi
Lydia Martin
Marie­Laure Schultze
Université de Provence, site d'Aix – Département d'Etudes du Monde Anglophone.
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IAA L03 – texte n°1 (exam de janvier 2007).
I) Traduisez en français l’extrait de roman ci­dessous :
My brother had all the gifts, looks, intellect, charm, simple niceness and, added to these, the generosity of spirit that should come from being favoured by the gods but often does not. My mother and father doted on him. They were like parents in a fairy story, poor peasants who know themselves unworthy to bring up the prince some witch has put into their own child’s cradle. Not that he was unlike them, having taken for himself the best of their looks, the best features of each of them, and the best of their talents, my father’s mathematical bent, my mother’s love of literature, the gentleness and humour of both. But these gifts were enhanced in him, he bettered them.
He was tall, taller at sixteen than my father. His hair was a very dark brown, almost black, that silky fine dark hair that goes grey sooner than any other. My father, who was not yet forty, was already grey. Piers’s eyes were blue, as are all the eyes in our family except my Aunt Sheila’s which are turquoise with a dark rim around the pupils. His face was not a film star’s nor that of a model posing in smart clothes in an advertisement, but a Pre­Raphaelite’s meticulous portrait. At school he had always been top of his class. Examinations he was allowed to take in advance he always passed and passed well. He was destined to go up to Oxford at seventeen instead of eighteen. It was hard to say whether he was better at the sciences than the arts, and if it was philosophy he was to read at university, it might equally have been classical languages or physics. Ruth RENDELL, The Strawberry Tree (1990).
II ) Rédigez en français les réponses aux questions ci­dessous :
1. Relevez dans la traduction que vous venez de rédiger à partir du texte ci­dessus, un exemple d’étoffement. Donnez la définition du procédé et montrez en quoi votre exemple constitue une illustration pertinente de ce procédé. 2. Quel procédé a­t­on utilisé dans la traduction ci­dessous ?
to add fuel to the fire => jeter de l'huile sur le feu.
IAA L03 – texte n°2 (exam de septembre 2007).
I ) Traduisez en français l’extrait de roman ci­dessous :
Charlotte Gray arrive à Londres en 1942 pour s'installer dans un appartement aménagé pour accueillir trois jeunes femmes en colocation.
Charlotte looked around. There was a tea tray on a low table in front of the fireplace; it was laden with crockery she could tell was yesterday's by the way the milk had separated from the cold leavings of tea. There were newspapers and magazines all over the floor and women's clothes draped across the various chairs. The room was very cold. [ … ] The rest of the flat did not take long to explore. Next to Charlotte's room, the other side of the partition, was another bedroom. It was slightly larger, but equally cold; it had a hanging rail on wheels with a number of women's clothes. It also looked over the street, though it had a greyish lace curtain over the window; on the bedside table was a book called Love in a Harem, and tucked in beneath the counterpane was an eyeless teddy bear. Sally's room, Charlotte presumed.
The largest of the three bedrooms had a photograph of Daisy on the chest of drawers; next to it was one of what Charlotte took to be Daisy's parents ­ the man in spectacles, baldish, moustached, vaguely medical or academic looking; the woman dark, round­faced with pretty eyes, a slightly 2
more spiritual but perhaps also more vacuous version of Daisy ­ and, tucked between the mirror and its wooden frame, a young man with crinkly hair in army uniform. Daisy's silver hairbrushes were laid out among the pots of cream and powder. An open lipstick stuck up between them, and Charlotte had to restrain herself from winding it back into its base. The bed, unlike Sally's, was not properly made; the eiderdown had been hastily straightened over the tangle of blankets beneath. There was a volume of Swinburne's poems on the bedside table and a copy of The Great Gatsby. Sebastian FAULKS, Charlotte Gray (1999).
Counterpane: bedspread
II ) Rédigez en français les réponses aux questions ci­dessous :
1. Relevez dans la traduction que vous venez de rédiger à partir du texte ci­dessus, un exemple d’étoffement. Donnez la définition du procédé et montrez en quoi votre exemple constitue une illustration pertinente de ce procédé. 2. Traduisez la phrase suivante donnée hors contexte à l’aide d’une transposition
what we felt about him.
3. Quel procédé a­t­on utilisé dans la traduction ci­dessous ?
come out of the rain => ne restez pas sous la pluie
IAA L03 – texte n°3 (rempla septembre 2007).
I ) Traduisez en français l’extrait de roman ci­dessous When the war ended Hardy was 78. He still walked with the vigour of a young man, (...) and could bicycle the mile to his brother's house and back. His days and weeks were run to a pattern: every Monday morning he wound up the three grandfather clocks in the house, one in the hall, one in the drawing room and one in the passage to the kitchen. The Times was still his daily paper, and he breakfasted at 8.30 or nine (...) drinking tea, and sprinkling brown sugar on his bacon. He liked to walk to his front gate after breakfast to see what the weather promised (...).
Punctually at 10 he was in his study. It was at the back of the house, looking east and well placed over the warm kitchen, and it was always dusty because he would not allow the housemaids to touch his papers or books. The walls were a faded pinkish red (...) He liked to work in old clothes, and particularly a pair of trousers that went back to the turn of the century and which he mended himself with string. He also kept an ancient shawl (...) to put over his shoulders, and sometimes his head too, against the cold. There was an open fire, laid but not lit by the maid because he liked to get it going himself. (...) No telephone, although one was installed downstairs in 1920, which he refused to answer. In the same year the house acquired a wireless set, of which Wessex, his dog, became so passionately fond that Hardy sometimes got up early and went down in his long night­shirt and short dressing­gown to turn it on for him. 281 mots.
Claire TOMALIN, Thomas Hardy: The Time­Torn Man (2007).
II ) Rédigez en français les réponses aux questions ci­dessous :
1. Relevez dans la traduction que vous venez de rédiger à partir du texte ci­dessus, un exemple de modulation métonymique. Donnez la définition du procédé et montrez en quoi votre exemple constitue une illustration pertinente de ce procédé. 2. Quel procédé a­t­on utilisé dans la traduction ci­dessous ? Définissez le procédé et justifiez son emploi.
His second wife Florence would join him at 7.45 => Tous les matins, sa seconde femme Florence le 3
rejoignait à 7.45.
IAA L03 – texte n°4.
I ) Traduisez en français l’extrait de roman ci­dessous :
Notes: marred: spoilt Leslie: a man's name in English.
When she looked at her parents, she was daunted by how grown up they were. How long would it take before she was as grown­up as that?
They knew their own minds, they had opinions, they could tell right from wrong. […]
The other part of growing up was getting to look like someone. Her father who managed the grocery at Bryden, looked like a man who managed a grocery: he was round and neat […] and seemed as if he was kind but had a reserve of severity ­ the sort of man who knew that a pound of flour was a pound of flour […], who could tell which biscuits were in which square tin without even looking at the label, and who could put his hand close, oh so close, to the bacon­slicer without shaving the skin from his palm.
Jean's mother also looked like someone, with her pointy nose and rather protuberant blue eyes, with her hair caught back in a bun during the daytime when she wore her […] uniform, or loose in the evening when she listened to Father and knew exactly what questions to ask. […]
Jean would sometimes stare into the mirror, inspecting herself for signs of change; but her straight hair lay sullenly flat on her head, and her blue eyes were marred by silly flecks. An article in the Daily Express had explained that many film stars in Hollywood were successful because their faces were heart­shaped. Well, there was no hope for that now; she was far too square­jawed. If only these bits of her face would start looking as if they belonged together. […] Mother once caught her at self examination and commented, 'You're not pretty, but you'll do'.
I'll do, she thought. My parents think I'll do. But would anyone else? 300 mots
Julian BARNES, Staring at the sun (1986).
II ) Rédigez en français les réponses aux questions ci­dessous :
1. Relevez dans la traduction que vous venez de rédiger à partir du texte ci­dessus, un exemple d’étoffement. Donnez la définition du procédé et montrez en quoi votre exemple constitue une illustration pertinente de ce procédé. 2. Traduisez la phrase suivante donnée hors contexte à l’aide d’une transposition
as soon as they arrived, they started arguing.
3. Quel procédé a­t­on utilisé dans la traduction ci­dessous ?
to add fuel to the fire => jeter de l'huile sur le feu.
IAA L03 – textes n°5 et 6.
The third bell has sounded. The purple velvet curtain is about to be raised. The lights are progressively dimming, till only the red signs showing EXIT remain, glowing like embers in the darkened hall. Popcorn sellers and cold­drinks vendors begin to leave. Salim and I settle down in our seats.
The first thing you must know about Salim is that he is my best friend. The second is that he is crazy about Hindi films. But not all Hindi films. Just the ones featuring Armaan Ali.
They say that first there was Amitabh Bachchan. Then there was Shahrukh Khan. Now there is Armaan Ali. The ultimate action hero. The Indian Greek god. The heartthrob of millions.
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Salim loves Armaan. Or, more accurately, he worships Armaan. His tiny room in the chawl is a shrine. It is lined with posters of all kinds depicting the hero in various poses. Armaan in a leather jacket. Armaan on a motorbike. Armaan with his shirt off, baring his hairy chest. Armaan with a gun. Armaan on a horse. Armaan in a pool, surrounded by a bevy of beauties.
We are occupying seats A21 and A22 in the very first row of the dress circle in Regal Talkies in Bandra. We shouldn't really be sitting here. The tickets in my front pocket do not say DRESS CIRCLE RS. 150. They say FRONT STALL RS. 25. The usher was in a good mood today and did us a favor. He told us to go and enjoy the balcony because the stalls were practically deserted. Even the balcony is almost empty. Apart from Salim and me, there are no more than two dozen people in the rows ahead of us.
284 words
________________________________
When Salim and I go to the movies, we usually sit in the front stalls, where we can make catcalls and whistle. Salim believes the nearer you sit to the screen, the closer you are to the action. He says he can lean forward and almost touch Armaan. He can count the veins on Armaan's biceps, he can see the whites of Armaan's hazel­green eyes, the fine stubble on Armaan's cleft chin, the little black mole on Armaan's chiseled nose.
I am not particularly fond of Armaan Ali. I think he acts the same way in every movie. But I, too, like to sit in the front rows, as close to the giant screen as possible. The heroine's breasts appear more voluptuous from there.
The curtain has now lifted, and the screen flickers to life. First we have the advertisements. Four sponsored by private companies and one by the government. We are told how to come first at school and become champions in cricket by eating cornflakes for breakfast. How to drive fast cars and win gorgeous girls by using Spice cologne. ("That's the perfume used by Armaan," exclaims Salim.) How to get a promotion and have shiny white clothes by using Roma soap. How to live life like a king by drinking Red & White whisky. And how to die of lung cancer by smoking cigarettes.
After the adverts, there is a little pause while the reels are changed. We cough and clear our throats. And then the censor certificate appears on the CinemaScope screen. It tells us that the film has been certified U/A, has seventeen reels and a length of 4,639.15 meters. The certificate is signed by one Mrs. M. Kane (...)
285 words
Vikas SWARUP, Q & A (2006).
IAA L03 – texte n°7.
When Harry woke up on Sunday morning, it took him a moment to remember why he felt so miserable and worried. Then the memory of the previous night rolled over him. He sat up and ripped back the curtains of his own four­poster, intending to talk to Ron, to force Ron to believe him – only to find that Ron’s bed was empty; he had obviously gone down to breakfast.
Harry dressed and went down the staircase into the common room. The moment he appeared, the people who had already finished breakfast broke into applause again. The prospect of going down into the Great Hall and facing the rest of the Gryffindors, all treating him like some sort of hero, was not inviting: it was that, however, or stay here and allow himself to be cornered by the Creevey brothers, who were both beckoning frantically to him to join them. He walked resolutely over to the portrait hole, pushed it open and found himself face to face with Hermione.
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‘Hello,’ she said, holding up a stack of toast, which she was carrying in a napkin. ‘I brought you this … want to go for a walk?’
‘Good idea,’ said Harry, gratefully.
They went downstairs, crossed the Entrance Hall quickly without looking in at the Great Hall, and were soon striding towards the lake. It was a chilly morning, and they kept moving, munching their toast, as Harry told Hermione exactly what had happened after he had left the Gryffindor table the night before. To his immense relief, Hermione accepted his story without question. ‘Write to Sirius. You’ve got to tell him what’s happened. He asked you to keep him posted on everything that’s going on at Hogwarts … it’s almost like he expected something like this to happen. I brought some parchment and a quill1 out with me.’
‘OK, OK, I’ll write to him,’ said Harry, throwing his last piece of toast into the lake. They both stood and watched it floating there for a moment, before a large tentacle rose out of the water and scooped it beneath the surface. Then they returned to the castle.
355 words.
J. K. ROWLING, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (2000).
IAA L03 – texte n°8.
Kino, Juana and their infant son, Coyotito, live in a modest house by the sea. One day Kino goes diving, and finds a great pearl. Many in the town begin to plot ways to steal it. At night, he is attacked and he kills the man in self­defense. Kino, Juana and Coyotito set out for the capital. They discover that three trackers are following them. They run to the mountains where they hide in a cave at nightfall. The trackers camp just below the ridge where they are hiding. Kino peered closely at her and he could see her large eyes. His hand fumbled out and found the baby, and for a moment his palm lay on Coyotito’s head. And then Kino raised his hand and touched Juana’s cheek, and she held her breath.
Against the sky in the cave entrance Juana could see that Kino was taking off his white clothes, for dirty and ragged though they were they would show up against the dark night. His brown skin was a better protection for him. And then she saw how he hooked his amulet neck­string about the horn handle of his great knife, so that it left both hands free. He did not come back to her. For a moment his body was black in the cave entrance, crouched and silent, and then he was gone. Juana moved to the entrance and looked out. She peered like an owl from the hole in the mountain, and the baby slept under the blanket on her back, his face turned sideways against her neck and shoulder. She could feel his warm breath against her skin, and Juana whispered her combination of prayer and magic. The night seemed a little less dark when she looked out, and to the east there was a lightening in the sky, down near the horizon where the moon would show. And, looking down, she could see the cigarette of the man on watch. Kino edged like a slow lizard down the smooth rock shoulder. He had turned his neck­string so that the great knife hung down from his back and could not clash against the stone. His spread fingers gripped the mountain, and his bare toes found support through contact, and even his chest lay against the stone so that he would not slip. For any sound, a rolling pebble or a sigh, would rouse the watchers below.
315 words.
John Steinbeck, The Pearl (1945).
1 a quill = une plume
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IAA L03 – texte n°9.
Simon sat across the kitchen table from his flour baby and gave her a poke.
The flour baby fell over.
‘Ha!’ Simon scoffed. ‘Can’t even sit up yet!’
He set the flour baby up again, and gave her another poke.
Again, she fell over.
‘Not very good at standing up for yourself, are you?’ Simon taunted, setting her up again.
The four baby fell over backwards this time, off the table into the dog basket.
‘Blast!’
‘You mustn’t swear in front of it,’ Simon’s mother said. ‘You’ll set a terrible example.’
Simon reached down to scoop the flour baby off Macpherson’s cushion, and picked the dog’s hairs of her frock.
‘Not it,’ he reproved his mum in turn. ‘Her.’
She was definitely a her. Definitely. Some of the four babies Mr Cartright had handed out that morning could have been one or the other. It wasn’t clear. But not the one that landed in Simon’s lap.
‘Catch, Dozy! Aren’t you supposed to be one of the school’s sporting heroes? Wake up!’
She was sweet. She was dressed in a frilly pink bonnet, and a pink nylon frock, and carefully painted on her sacking were luscious sexy round eyes fringed with fluttering lashes.
Robin Foster, beside him, was jealous instantly.
‘How come you get one with eyes? Mine’s just plain sacking. Do you want to swap?’
Simon tightened his grip round his flour baby.
‘No. She’s mine. You paint eyes on your own if you want them.’
‘And yours has clothes!’ He turned to yell at Mr Cartwright, who was just coming to the end of tossing bags of flour round the room. ‘Sir! Sir! Sime’s dolly has got a frock and a bonnet and eyes and everything. And mine’s got nothing. It’s not fair.’
‘If every parent who had a baby who was a bit lacking sent it back,’ Mr Cartwright said. ‘This classroom would be practically empty. Sit down and be quiet'.
323 words.
Anne FINE, Flour Babies (2001).
Rédigez en français les réponses aux questions ci­dessous :
1. Déterminez quel procédé de traduction a été utilisé pour la phrase suivante, en en donnant la définition et en expliquant votre réponse.
If every parent who had a baby who was a bit lacking (...): si tous les parents qui ont un enfant avec une case en moins.
2. Même chose pour : If every parent who had a baby who was a bit lacking sent it back,’ Mr Cartwright said, ‘This classroom would be practically empty: si tous les parents qui ont un enfant avec une case en moins le ré­expédiaient, il n'y aurait plus grand­monde dans cette classe, dit Mr. Cartwright.
IAA L03 – texte n°10.
And for this, as an uncle of mine used to say, apropos anything Jewish, the Nazis tried to exterminate us.
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My father's response, if he happened to be around, reminded me of someone swatting a fly. "Since when did any Nazi try to exterminate you, Ike? You personally? Had I thought the Nazis were after you I'd have told them where to find you years ago."
Upon which my uncle, who had lived with us for as long as I could remember, would turn white, accuse my father of being no better than Hitler himself, and flee to his room to hide.
Were they playing? Did they go on repeating this exchange because they thought it was amusing? Hard to decide when you're small whether people twice your size are joking or not. Sometimes everything they do looks like one big joke. But Hitler didn't sound a funny name. And exterminate, as I discovered from the little dictionary which my mother kept in her display cabinet, as though it were as precious as her china or my father's boxing cups, meant to destroy utterly, to put an end to (persons or animals), to drive out, to put to flight, to get rid of (species, races, populations, opinions). From which I inferred that no, my father and my uncle could not have been playing, but must have intended their jousting as a sort of magic, to ward off evil. To keep us from being driven out, got rid of, and the rest of it.
Thus I did grow up in Crumpsall Park in the 1950s, somewhere between the ghettos and the greenery of North Manchester, with extermination in my vocabulary and the Nazis in my living room.
286 words.
Howard JACOBSON, Kalooki Nights (2007).
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